“Oh yeah, Reject? What favor?”
I ignored him calling me Reject. “Um… could you get me a drink?”
Another one of those sharp looks, then his grin spread. Slow, feral, devious. “Sure thing. I’ll get you a drink.”
I watched him walk away, his broad back disappearing into the crowd. That grin. It lingered in the jelly in my thighs. It made me nervous even though he was playing into my plans.
I shook it off—physically shook it off—then ran to a stage.
The club had multiple stages on all floors leading to the top. Every one was open so you could jump into the ocean with the DJ. From the bottom looking up, you could see them all.
Every stage was taken, but I didn’t care. I made my way to the top, eyes on the best. There were few above a Crowne, and this girl was not one of them.
“Get off.”
She was about to argue, but when she saw who I was, she quickly scampered off the stage.
I spent years dancing, and I got a delicious thrill thinking this is how my training was being used. Dear mistress Alexy, all those fucking hours spent en pointe are now being used to shake my ass for semi-random strangers. Dear Mom, all those hours you forced me to stretch are now being used to bend over—
I was grasped by the wrist, and I stumbled into Theo’s piercing, pale green eyes. “What are you doing?”
His voice was rough, like sandpaper, and it rubbed me in the best way.
“Tormenting goes both ways, Theo.” I leaned in like I was going to kiss his cheek, then pulled back with a wicked smile. His eyes darkened, sending thrills down my spine. I tugged my wrist and he narrowed his eyes a fraction but loosened his hold.
Like he wanted me to know he’d let go.
He didn’t stay at the base of the stage like a lot of the men. He went to the edge of the floor until his back was to air and the water below.
Song after song, Theo let me dance, but I could feel him. All other persons faded away. Through the crowd, Theo’s dark and twisted wire throbbed.
I lifted up my shirt and the crowd went wild.
I had a half second to register the rush before I was grabbed at the ankle. I was yanked hard, flying up and into the air, catching Theo’s upside-down glare. At the same moment I was certain I was going to slam into the shiny stage, Theo’s arms wrapped around my waist. He threw me over his shoulder, ignoring my shouts.
He yanked my skirt down, then his arm wrapped tight around it so it couldn’t ride up. I could barely register the gentlemanly action, when his thumb was at my panties, sliding through the material, and he was on me. Pressing into my slit, grazing me back and forth, driving me hotter and higher, as he carried me through the club like I was a feather.
Torturer.
Theo Hound was a cruel torturer.
He carried me into a room carved into the rock, but by the hanging chandelier and plush carpet you wouldn’t know it. It overlooked the sparkling night and dark ocean. I could only hear the thump of the beat, the occasional happy scream and splash. We were totally hidden.
He tossed me down with something like savage tenderness. I landed on my feet hard, but his hands came to my cheeks, pushing the hair out of the way.
Then he kissed me, hard and brutal and over too fast.
“Fuck, I love that color on your cheeks, Abigail. Only make it for me.” I think I must have flushed harder, because the grin on his face spread. “Yeah, sweet girl, like that.” He trailed his knuckles along my cheeks, down to my jaw.
Goose bumps rose along my spine.
“I thought you were going to…” I swallowed at the memory of him touching me. “In the club,” I finished on a whisper. I couldn’t say it. Theo sucked out my bravado and made me a puddle.
In dark gray jeans and a black leather jacket, he was somehow both dressed up and casual, quintessentially Theo, and it was driving me nuts.
His knuckles continued down my neck. “Would you like that?”
It wouldn’t even be a shocking sight to the kind of people out there. Which is why the fact he brought me back here, to someplace private, had my gut twisting. It was more taboo to do things in private, more scandalous to keep a secret than tell it.